It's a Long Way Back from Nowhere
by hollow echos
Summary: Set one year post-season finale. Harvey's drunk and needs a ride home, Donna's in the car before they are off the phone. Written for the Suits X-mas Exchange on LJ.


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**It's a Long Way Back from Nowhere**

If things were to end, she would've expected it to be a violent fiery thing. Harvey was the type who basked in the attention and soaked in the lime light like it was his very life force. He had ridden in through the office on a wave of back slapping and congratulations from the younger associates for taking the city prosecutor to the wall and actually stepping away triumphant. His eyes had skimmed over the frowns of certain associates without as much as the slightest reaction. He was a man in his element, a virtuoso soaking up the adoration of the crowd at the curtain fall.

Donna's grip tightened on the steering wheel as she passed a car puttering along at a mere sixty miles an hour on the highway as she put New York City further in the rear view mirror. She sighed. It really was the only reaction for a situation such as this. This past year had left her so drained.

In the midst of what should have been one of Harvey's crowning moments, the curtain had fallen. Not with the gentle touch of a stage worker's knowing hand on the rope, but with sudden a crash that had sent ripples out through the firm, leaving associates, partners, paralegals and legal secretaries alike stunned and uneasy.

Jessica had met Harvey in the hallway, arms crossed and a hurt expression in her eyes as she ushered the man into her office.

God only knew what passed behind that door. Donna didn't quite know what stinging words they had hurled against one another, but if the results were anything to judge by, they both had said things they would never be able to take back. Whispers filled the corners of Pearson-Hardman when Harvey had cleaned out his office that very day, gaze hooded and dark but with the unmistakably stubborn tilt to his chin for which he was so well know. She'd watched him carry it down to the loading dock box by box, bits and pieces of their time together, and Donna alone knew that beneath the cultivated arrogance and confidence was a haunted expression. The sunken eyes, the softness to his mouth, the tense shoulders all told the story without Donna ever having to ask. Whatever had been spoken had utterly wrecked his jubilance of just an hour before.

It surprised no one that Mike was drawn before Jessica's wrath soon after and joined the mournful procession of shuttling his stuff out of the cubicle that she had grown so used to stopping by for a quick jab or to share the latest gossip. Her wingmen had been shot down right before her, and the pain of it cut deep.

She wanted to ask Harvey or Jessica or Mike _why_, but she just couldn't work up the bravery to do so. It made her feel ridiculous; now, in their hour of need, she couldn't muster the courage to try and makeJessica see reason. She swallowed the words on her lips. It wasn't like she didn't have work to do that could distract her; Harvey hadn't said anything about Donna leaving, had just looked at her with dead eyes and a smirk and thrown out meaningless phrases about how he, "should have expected it" and "what was I thinking, trusting Trevor?" that left Donna feeling lost. Jessica had stopped by just long enough to put her work on distributing Harvey's open cases amongst the remaining partners and associates, as though Harvey, Mike and Jessica had all come to a silent conclusion that Donna would stay, that she _had _to stay and – Donna cut off the thought there. Of course she wouldn't stay. She'd always been Harvey's the same way he was hers; without each other, everything would just…fall apart.

Apparently, Harvey didn't feel the same way.

He looked at her, just once, after that first trip out of the office with his belongings in his hands and put his hands over hers. They were cold, and a little damp, and Donna had to inhale deeply to smell the faint spice of his cologne. "No," he'd told her softly.

As if that was it. As if everything they'd done – everything they'd been through, it could – it was –

So Donna watched him leave.

Mike cleared out too, moving his belonging quickly, since for all the brightness he had brought to their at times drab office, he never had moved a whole lot of his own possessions into the place. Somehow, it made the fact that it took Harvey most of the day all the worse. She paused mid-keystroke as he passed each time, sometimes blinking a few times rapidly as if the whole thing was some sick joke or an illusion. It wasn't. He was a proud man, refusing to take any help, as if he needed to break down the little sliver of New York City that he had taken as his personal haven in solitude to come to terms with the reality.

He stopped by her desk, carrying only his briefcase this trip, as if it were simply another end of the work day. He forced a smile. She ignored the slight disarray of his normally pristine appearance, the slight colic of hair and his tie a little loose. "So I'll see you around?" he'd asked. His voice was quiet and aching as he spoke.

That was Harvey, always trying to protect her. Now, a mark like Mike on his record, Harvey couldn't drag her away from Pearson-Hardman, not without having something to offer her. Harvey's pride wouldn't let him be a weight on her, wouldn't let him steal the life she'd built around herself. Donna could see it in the corner of his mouth, his steady gaze, the very warmth of his presence.

She nodded, blinking back the tears. They wouldn't end it like that. She had too much pride for that. God knows how fast that gossip would get around the office, if she actually shed a tear over Harvey. She knew how these things worked. After all, she was normally the purveyor of such juicy information. Harvey might be going, but she would make sure he was never truly gone. "Take care of yourself, Harvey." Donna stared back at him, unrelenting, and told him without ever saying a word that the second he needed her, for anything –to bail him out of his latest mess, to kick his ass, to be his secretary again – she'd be there in a heartbeat.

He nodded firmly. "I always do. Same to you, don't work too hard. Wouldn't want to mar that beautiful face of yours with worry lines." He took her hand in his own for a moment, raising it and gently pressing it to his lips. "Goodbye, Donna."

She forced her lips into a quiet smile. "If you're ever in Des Moines, don't send me a postcard."

His eyes crinkled in the corners in the way that made her heart stop. "Mississippi Burning?"

"Of course."

"You always had such fine taste in movies," he said.

It was the last words she had heard from him, and the whole situation felt so damn _wrong_. She thought he would've gone down fighting. He went out quietly, no fuss, no ruckus, he left like the honorable man he was. No pleading, like she would expect of a weaker man. He simply stood as they read the verdict, accepted the sentence, and walked off like the cowboys toward the sunset in those westerns he loved so much.

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**INSERT POSTCARD**

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She hadn't heard much from him in the year since. The radio silence had ended in a way she didn't see coming. Of all the ways to contact her again, she hadn't expected it to be a phone call from him a little after midnight. First time since he'd left. She didn't mind getting dragged out of bed, though, not for Harvey, not for this. His words had slurred together but she'd managed to eke out the name of the bar.

Donna winced as she pulled into the gravel parking lot, her car bouncing through a series of potholes. She craned her neck upwards at the neon sign. The Broken Timbers, or rather, 'The Broken Timbe s.' The 'r' flickered in and out of existence at the whims of the failing bulb. It wasn't the sort of place she'd expect to find Harvey, but then, she also never would've expected him to fabricate the web of lies he'd woven around Mike.

She sighed, pulled her coat a bit tighter to keep out the cold and headed into the bar.

Her nose crinkled at the pungent cigarette odor that ruined what little ambiance the place might've held. The practice had been banned in all public settings more than a year ago and yet the scent still remained. Either a lazy bar owner, if she had to guess, or something to cater to the nostalgia of the sorts of folks that would frequent this place.

She scanned the crowd, finding the one suit in the joint, sitting behind a table that had been pressed into one of the far corners away from the bar. She wove between the drunken hoodlums, ignored the cat calls, and dropped into the seat across from her former boss.

It was only years of practice that kept her from flinching

"Glad to see that you did something worthwhile with yourself after you left," she said, a bit of scorn creeping into her voice. The man she knew, or had known, wouldn't have dreamed of appearing in public in a beard that looked like it hadn't been shaved in two days or a wrinkled white dress shirt. God, there were _stains _on it. She shuddered at the notion.

He shrugged, eyes cast down. "Learned a few things in the past year."

"Like how to grow a furry animal on your face?"

He rubbed a hand across his chin as he pondered the thought. "That bad?"

She nodded, mouth twitching despite herself. "Worse." She paused, waiting for Harvey to say something, anything, but the man remained silent. "What are you doing in a dump like this?" she asked more earnestly this time, letting the anger bleed away.

"Drinking," he replied, a slap happy grin on his face as he raised his glass toward her, a bit of the alcohol spilling out onto the table.

A passing man stopped by their table, mopping up the mess with a rag before turning to her. "_Was _drinking. I cut him off about thirty minutes ago when he started cat calling at Ernie over there," he said, motioning toward a balding figure at the bar. She could just make out the man winking back at them from across the room in the dim light.

"They took my keys," Harvey muttered a bit slowly. "Even asked for them back nicely."

The bar tender scoffed, throwing the rag over his shoulder. "He threatened to sue, tried telling us he was a lawyer," the man said with a hint of amusement.

Harvey started a rebuke. "I am-"

Donna cut him off. "He was."

"Please tell me you're here to take him home? We're about ready to close and if you aren't here for him I'm going to have to let the cops pick him up. I have a family to get home to…" the man drifted off meaningfully.

"Consider me his designated driver."

The man nodded appreciatively, digging a pair of keys out of his pocket and placing them in her palm. "You can leave the car here overnight but he'll need to pick it up tomorrow when he's a bit more sober or we'll have to have it towed."

"I'll take care of it. Thanks for watching out for him."

"A drunk driver on the road doesn't do anyone any favors," he said before walking away.

"I'm not drunk," Harvey muttered under his breath.

She could smell the alcohol on him from across the table. Part of her was wondering whether it was alcohol bleeding out of his pores instead of sweat. "Right, you keep thinking that. Can you stand?"

"I could dance a jig of the need arose," he giggled.

She smiled at that despite herself. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen her boss actually drunk. His normal rigidity was the first thing to go when the drinks started flowing, which is why he flatly refused to drink more than one or two in public.

"Think we'll save that for another time. Last thing we need is a trip to the hospital because you twisted an ankle trying to impress a non-existent audience."

"You'd be would be worth it."

She ignored the come on. She'd played this scenario out so many times in her head, and every time had stopped the fantasy as soon as she realized she was doing it again. People who worked together did not sleep together; it was her one unbreakable rule. Except that wasn't the case anymore, a part of her mind whispered. She silenced the notion. She had to, at least for now. There were more important things to worry about at the moment.

She walked around the table, grabbing one of his arms, slinging it over her shoulder, and making to walk toward the door.

"Wait, my coat," he said, grabbing toward the back of the chair and missing by a good six inches. The man really was gone. She snagged it with her spare hand. "Alright, let's go."

They made an awkward pair. He was far too heavy for her to be moving on her own but dignity prevented her from asking for help. Her heels weren't doing them any favors either.

She leaned him up against the side of her car as she popped the door open quickly. He was already starting to sag toward the ground as she hauled him upwards and dumped him into her passenger seat. After ensuring that all of his limbs were inside, she slammed the door with a little more force than necessary. The humor that had been present even a minute ago drained abruptly away, and she felt her heart cracking for this man she thought she'd known better than anyone else in the world. Harvey was the one man she'd trusted beyond all else, even back when Cameron was screwing Harvey over seven ways to Sunday. Donna had looked, really looked, into Harvey's alcohol-clouded gaze, looking for that spark of pure Harvey without finding a trace of it.

She stood there for a moment, watching him through the window as he fumbled with the seatbelt, growing progressively angrier. Was this really happening?

It was.

She rounded the front of the car and slid into her own seat. They sat in a tense silence before she turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot.

"What the _hell _are you doing Harvey?" she was seething.

"Enjoying myself," he said with clarity in his voice that hadn't been there just moments before. She did a double take. The man was pulling a comb out of his pocket and smoothing down the bits of hair that had strayed out of alignment.

He met her gaze at the red light. It was like someone had flipped a switch. His movements were perfectly terse as he rearranged his appearance, cringing as he unrolled his sleeves and buttoned them at the cuff. "My dry cleaner is going to kill me for this one."

"Harvey Specter, you sure as hell better be drunk if I drove an hour outside the city to drag you home."

"Well, I assure you that everyone in that bar is perfectly convinced that I'm the sort of city boy who can't hold his liquor. In reality, maybe a slight bit tipsy at the absolute worst," he said with a slight smirk.

Donna wanted to gape, wanted to smack the man, wanted to do something drastic, like find a way to push him out of the car and over the railing while she was still driving at seventy miles per hour. "So what is this, a call for help? A plea for attention?" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"Revenge," he said, his voice low and serious.

"Because I did so much to offend you…"

"No on you," he said impatiently, redoing his , more gently, "Never you." Donna didn't know what to say to that, so Harvey continued, "Trevor. It was one year ago today that that coward ruined everything out of damnable spite."

"Harvey! What did you do?" she asked. She had to work hard to focus on the road in front of her. Last thing they needed was an accident.

"Nothing dangerous, I assure you. Although in my estimable opinion the man deserves a good kick to the groin and maybe a matching pair of black eyes," Harvey said.

"Harvey, you don't do anything small. It's not in you. I've been cleaning up your messes for years, I know this first hand."

He waved her off, well pleased with himself. "Why the man frequents that hell hole I'll never know. A planted bag of pot and a busted tail light should do the kid wonders. I happen to have it on good authority that there's a police checkpoint on his route home tonight. I can only hope that he has the misfortune of being caught."

"You honestly think he didn't recognize you?" What had the man been _thinking_?

Harvey, however, was dismissive and waved an idle hand. "The man doesn't see what's two inches in front of his face. I'd bet the farm on it."

"Because you even have a farm to bet…"

"Well, maybe not a farm. I'm city born and bred. My apartment then, perhaps. Since I'm not actually drunk and all, you can just loop around the block and drop me at my car."

That, strangely enough, sobered her. The man was driving these days, no chauffeur. Things really had changed in a year.

She locked the doors and sped up a bit. "Nope. You drag me out here in the dead of night to play the ignorant accomplice in your little game; you can certainly have the inconvenience of sorting out how to get your car back tomorrow."

That had Harvey frowning at her. "Oh, come on Donna. Don't be a poor sport. It's a harmless joke-"

She gritted her teeth at that. "It's always harmless, Harvey. No one ever gets hurt. It wasn't like Mike fled the city after the whole little debacle or I ended up working for Louis." The words hurt them both more than they'd have liked to admit. Donna had tried searching Mike out, and would have bet good money that Harvey did the same, but Donna hadn't been able to find hide nor hair of him. She didn't even know if he was still in the city, and that was a mystery that continually ached at her. Whatever else, she'd wanted to offer what she could to the brilliant young man. Now wasn't the time for that, however, and she continued, "You have an apartment and the time to drink on a weeknight. Everything turned out alright after all." The words came out a harsh snap because _how could Harvey_, when she'd not heard a real word for him in _months_, after all the nightmares where he was dead or _worse_ – Donna's breath caught in something like a sob before she steadied herself. The ache she'd been ignoring for what seemed like forever flared into life, sharp and cold because she'd missed Harvey so damn much.

For once, he was caught without words. He leaned back in his seat and looked out the window as if considering her words.

Silence was fine as far as she was concerned. It had been a long year, a long night, she really just wanted to get home, fall asleep, and call it a life.

"You work for Louis now?" he finally asked.

Donna kept her eyes on the road, mouth tight. "He started moving into your office as soon as you were out the door."

"Wait…he made partner?" Harvey asked, as if unable to believe the reality.

Donna couldn't quite blame him. It wasn't a pretty picture; she'd woken up to it every day since he'd left. "Jessica needed to fill the hole you left."

"There were certainly better candidates than _Louis._"

Donna shrugged. "If you ask me, Jessica didn't want the headache of sorting through all the people who might've been better qualified. She wanted to wash her hands of the whole mess and there Louis was, chomping at the bit. It didn't take much encouragement before she was ushering him through the door and having a name plaque installed outside his office."

"You mean _my _office," he corrected her, almost absently.

"_His_ office, Harvey." Donna snapped before she could help herself. Of all the way she'd hoped to be reunited with the man, a late night drive for stupid revenge when Harvey's skills could have been used so much better elsewhere. It was…a waste. A complete and utter waste that left Donna drained."You burned your bridges good and well with what you did."

Harvey was quiet for a long time. His voice cracked when he said, "I didn't mean to end like that."

"Few people ever do."

They drove on in silence until she was pulling into her parking spot. He gave her a questioning glance then. She muttered an excuse about not wanting to tromp halfway across town to wherever he was living these days. He could take the couch and be grateful he wasn't sleeping on the curb.

He was smart enough to know when to let the issue lie. He watched her tromp into her bedroom and shut the door firmly behind her, leaving him alone in the living room.

He dropped the blanket and pillow that she'd given him on the couch, taking a moment or two to explore the space. For all their time together, the most he'd ever seen of her apartment was the door on those rare occasions when they drove together for whatever reason. It wasn't as sparse as he kept his own apartment. There were family photos on the walls and a patterned rug hiding much of the tile. He paused to lift a photo from its perch on her bookshelf. Wiping away the dust he recognized the scene. It was Donna and him posed together at the annual firm picnic. Harvey's team had won the baseball game against Louis' hand-picked crew that year. Louis hated cooking, so that's exactly what Harvey had challenged him for. They had won a full month of Louis serving home baked goods every day for lunch due to the man's lost bet. He set the frame back in its spot delicately.

He changed into the sweats that Donna had procured from somewhere in her apartment. It didn't surprise them in the least bit that they fit him perfectly. As he lay down to sleep that night, he realized the true extent of what not only what he had cost the people he loved, but also what he had personally lost.

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He woke up to the aroma of eggs and the sound of bacon sizzling in a pan. He rubbed his eyes, sat up, and examined his surroundings. Looking across the apartment he eyed Donna working on breakfast over the stove.

Hearing the ruckus, she looked over. "About time you're up. You used to be the most punctual associate – and partner – at the office. We're going to have to whip you back into shape."

"Food smells good," he offered, ignoring the jibe.

Donna kept her attention on the stove. "And you can have some as soon as you take a shower and come out smelling like a human being. And shave that animal off your face. I'll tolerate a lot of things but that isn't one of them."

He smirked. He'd always been the boss in writing, but it was really Donna who ran the show most days.

"Yes, 'mam," he said, giving her a mock salute and marching off in search of the shower.

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When he emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung low across his hips, he'd found his suit hanging on the outside of the door. It was dry cleaned and freshly pressed. When Donna had found the time to do all of that he'd probably never know. He swore the woman had an army of people quietly working beneath her some days with the sheer number of tasks she was capable of accomplishing. He got dressed, stepped out of the bathroom feeling a bit more civilized, and slid into one of the chairs at the table.

She placed a pair of plates on the table, one before each of them, and sat down. "Dig in."

He didn't need to be told twice. He picked up his fork and went to work.

When they had finished, he stood up to clear the table. She pulled her plate back when he reached for it, making a face. "My house, my rules. Host does the clean-up."

He shook his head and pulled it out of her grip lightly. "You drove out to the middle of nowhere to pick me up, gave me a place to sleep, and food to eat. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you do the dishes too."

She chuckled, but relented, letting him handle the plates. Harvey stacked them, along with everything else they'd used, and took it all over to the sink. He immediately set to work with the sponge, heedless of his suit.

"A woman could get used to this," she mused. She stood up herself then, heading to the pantry and emerging with a towel to dry the dishes as he finished.

Harvey cast her a grin over his shoulder, and it was only a little faked. "Well, it's not like I've done a whole lot in this past year. Feels good to be doing something productive."

"You apparently found the time to wander out to Des Moines, Iowa."

He shrugged. "Needed to do a bit of soul searching. Hit up a few other places along the way too."

"See anything exotic?"

"Besides the world's largest cow? Well, there was a restaurant that actually served squirrel and hotels where you were lucky if your sheets didn't have stains."He passed her a dish. "I was a bit surprised myself," he said, chuckling.

"I didn't really stop to think about much this past year. God, I never even apologized to you or Mike or anyone else. It's not like I needed to work, necessarily. I had a good amount stashed away." Then, in a more serious tone, Harvey added, "It's like someone pulled out the floor from beneath me and I was in free-fall for a year. I went where I wanted to go, did what I wanted to do, but…it's not the same. I don't really know what I'm going to do now. I sort of want to…start over," he admitted. "It sound so stupid, but you're right, I don't even know what the hell I was doing in the bar, but what you said, the fact that you came, just, _Donna – _"

Donna cut him off with a finger against his lips. Harvey shut up immediately, hands still covered in soap and shirt sleeves rolled up, and gazed at her. Donna's red hair was curling over her shoulder, mouth curved in a soft smile. She nudged him away from the sink, placing a folded newspaper in his hand. Looking down, he saw that it was the classifieds section. An ad was circled in red. One perfectly manicured fingernail tapped on it. Donna's expression was wry, but for the first time since she'd seen Harvey in that dingy bar, there was genuine light in her eyes.

"The Public Defender's Office is looking for a few more defense lawyers. You have an interview in two hours."

"But-"

She gave him a look that stopped the words on his lips. "No, you didn't apologize. And yet here I am forgiving you. I work for Louis, damn it. You have any idea how many times a day I want to beat the man's head against the wall? You are going to start at the bottom rung of the ladder if that's what it takes and you'll make the climb like you did it before. You _will _fix this snafu, and ultimately you will kick Louis' snide ass out of _your _office and we're going to go back to the way things should've been all along."

He stood there, flicking his gaze between the classifieds ad and where she stood, hand propped on a hip and looking ready to take him to task if he denied her this. "Okay," he finally said. Donna raised a brow, but Harvey just grinned at her. "Yeah. Okay. You happen to see my tie anywhere when you were kidnapping my wardrobe?"

Donna sniffed, gesturing towards her family room. "I got rid of that blue striped atrocity you were sporting and replaced it with something more tolerable. I laid it out over the back of the couch."

That was it. Simple as that. Donna went back to the dishes and while Harvey escaped to the bathroom, where he stood in front of the bathroom mirror doing his tie. It had been a year of wandering without purpose. He really had no excuse for it and without realizing it he had ended up far off the beaten track. It wasn't going to be easy, he knew that. There was Jessica to grovel before and Mike to track down and Louis to torture, but for the first time in a long time Harvey met the gaze of the man in the mirror and grinned fiercely. It was going to be a long way back, but he'd get there.

-THE END-

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